


As time goes by

by Griffinous56



Series: HK ABOverse that no one asked for [2]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Forehead Touching, Getting to Know Each Other, Kissing in the Rain, Mutual care and respect, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other, Post-Game(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sleeping Together, That moment where they look at each other and be like they’re seeing their entire worLD LORD HELP ME, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 18:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18474622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griffinous56/pseuds/Griffinous56
Summary: Next morning, Grimm wakes to a soft chime from Brumm’s bell, Hollow a steady weight on him, deep in their hopefully peaceful sleep. A heavenly smell of Brumm famous soup reaches him and Grimm feels his stomach rumbling, yet he doesn’t move. He studies Hollow’s face until he can’t keep his eyes open and eventually goes back to sleep.—Summary of Grimm and Hollow’s time spending together and the conclusion of a year.Or that times where both of them are a mess of their own but they make it, somehow.





	As time goes by

**Author's Note:**

> I try so hard to fit this into the game plot aren’t I.
> 
> Set time before the first part of this series, and seriously, this is an ABO series, an Omegaverse for Radiance and PK sakes. I shouldn’t try and fit this amount of fluff and soft angst into it expect smut.

When Grimm wakes up from the rough rustling of the blanket, it’s already past midnight. Beside him lays the culprit, whose black carapace laying on their damaged side and curling onto themself, their remaining hand clutches at the twisted wreckage of their shoulder where the shell had healed up _wrong_. The figure lays trembling, claws digging deeper into the carapace as if to gouge out something.

 

 _The infection and its cysts_ , Grimm’s mind helpfully provides. As if doing that would help elevating the pain. The cancer long gone, but the pain remains, between the plates of their shell where those orange cysts pulsing with infection once formed. A full body shudder wreck Hollow’s body this time, trickles of black liquid leak out when a claw digs too deep and Grimm wonders if it would be better it those was the infection instead.  

 

Another tremor wrecks through their body and they writhe, ashen colored head tossing from side to side. From the other end of the bed, Grimm raises his hand, hesitates whether to touch, so soothe them down or not. For once not knowing what to do.

 

This isn’t the first time it has happen, nor it will be the last.

 

Grimm sits up, tries to take a hold of their clutching claws and ease it open. Their head turns, sharp horns cut at his arm. Hollow trembling increases and they turns, pressing their front against the mattress, as if caught in a nightmare they can’t wake up from. An irony.

 

The last time when this happened, when Grimm tried to reach out and told them that it’s ok, nothing will happen to them, he got horns drove straight to where his head had been. And a fist to an eye for his trouble. That was the first time the nightmare begin. They are regular, persistent, and there is no medication or comfort that can quell them.

 

Morning after that, Hollow took a long and silent look at his black eye, tried to say a sorry to him before processed to avoid him for a long time. They were afraid of hurting him again, even though what had happened was only an accident. It took both of them three weeks before Grimm finally managed to corner them into a dark corner of the tent, pushing and grabbing and asking why did they run away from him and why wouldn’t they come to him, to them, for help. The vessel, a broken vessel, was stoic and stilled in his arm, refused to look at him in the eyes most of the time, didn’t even dare to turn their head even when Grimm had burnt out his anger and was left with exhaustion and tiredness. Didn’t until Grimm gently cradled their head in his hands and stood on his tiptoes to press their forehead together, muttering they would figure it out, they would try again, it is worth it, you are worth it, just stay. They had stayed like that in darkness for awhile and Grimm didn’t stop pleading until Hollow presses their snout to his face.

 

A rummage pulls Grimm out from from his thoughts. Hollow has turns again, this time laying on their side, directly facing him, still fighting their nightmare. The worst phase has pass, small trembles still wreck up their body.

 

Silently, carefully, Grimm scopes them up into his arm, places their head in the juncture between his shoulder and neck, where his own scent is the clearest and laying both of them down onto their whole side. He then pulls the blanket back up again, hand winding around their waist to pull them close his chest. Grimm doesn’t go back to sleep until he feels their tremble quell down, a soft nuzzle on a side of his face accompany with familiar cool sensation of his partner head and a soft tug at his cloak, refusing to let go.

 

Next morning, Grimm wakes to a soft chime from Brumm’s bell, Hollow a steady weight on him, deep in their hopefully peaceful sleep. A heavenly smell of Brumm famous soup reaches him and Grimm feels his stomach rumbling, yet he doesn’t move. He studies Hollow’s face until he can’t keep his eyes open and eventually goes back to sleep.

 

These nightmares don’t go anyway, if anything, they just get worse. Once Grimm finds out they become like that when they became a couple, it’s Grimm turn to hide away. Finding more excuses to practice with the troupe, rehearsing his plays whenever he has free time, or even if when they manage to stay together inside a same room, he will find something to busy himself with. That isn’t a wise decision, Grimm knows, those who see them daily know, even Ghost or Hornet who sometime visit the troupe know. Grimm knows that this is a cowardly decision he’s made, a stupid one, a small attempt at running away from the problem instead of facing it because it’s easier to do so. Grimm only snaps out of it when one day, approximately two months after his discovery, Divine pulls him into a corner and starts to shove facts into his face, scolding him for his actions as if he’s a naive and ignorant Grimmchild once again.

 

“If you’re not going to fix this for yourself, then do it for them,” says Divine, stern expression plaster clearly on her face. Then it soften out, “Aren’t they your omega? You mate?”

 

Mate, that word echoes inside his mind, almost forgotten for how many life he had spent in service of the nightmare heart and the troupe. Omega, another word he almost forgotten too for beings like him don’t divide themself into different cattle like how normal bugs do. Alpha, beta, omega, exist because of diversity in races and classes and thirst for survival.

 

His mate and omega, the one who has a scent that smell so much like home. Hollow, someone he sheltered firstly out of pity, then along the way, it somehow changed into love.

 

His mind goes back to the night where they mated and made a pledge. Grimm turns his head, his resolve returns.

 

But the damage has been done. In his last attempt at avoiding them, Grimm had decided to move the troupe location back to Dirtmouth and have Hollow stay with its residences and Ghost, who now is accompanying Hornet and Quirrel in the City of Tears, saying how it would be better for them to spent some time outside of the troupe and get familiar with their rebuilding homeland, meanwhile he will take a time off to maintain the nightmare core and the troupe itself. It isn’t completely a lie, but Grimm is still guilty for pushing them out like that when before he had, desperately, broke their barrier and pull them in.

 

On the first day of departure, a month before the kingdom’s harvest festival in autumn, Grimm pulls Hollow close and presses a long and hard kiss at where their mouth would be, just a few moment before they go. Saying that he will comeback when pressing smooches on the mating marks on their neck before pulling away. He wonders if Hollow will forgive him.

 

Grimm spends a whole month determinedly focuses on his jobs and nothing else. At night, when he goes back to his room and take a rest on his short break, he sometimes will reach out to a spot beside him on the wide bed for a familiar shape, only to find an empty and cold space. He comes to hate that empty space on the mattress beside him, despite many years of sleeping alone before this whole thing.

 

Grimm and his troupe come back a day after the festival, on the outskirt of the City of Tears when Hollow had spent most of their time within, only to find out that Ghost, submitted to Hollow request, had taken them down the the ruin of the Palace Ground this morning and will here return tomorrow. It’s shitty timing, Grimm just knows it, so he doesn’t actively reach out for his mate, instead busy himself with the troupe performances inside the city. He gets reacquainted with his collections  of wines inside his liquor cabinet, trying to drunk himself. Grimm doesn’t get drunk because of his ridiculously high tolerance, but he does get himself clumsy and hot enough to make it an excuse to climb into his bed on his second day when he returns here.

 

Hollow comes back, silently as always, and climb onto his bed, their bed too, trying not to wake him up. But when they settle down, Grimm turns, hugging and put his face on their chest.

 

He speaks up before Hollow reverts back to their skittish self. “Welcome home,” he slurs, unfocus as he burrows deeper into familiar earthy scent that he has grown to love. “Day off tomorrow, let’s go somewhere nice.”

 

Hollow doesn’t react more than hugging him back. Grimm almost thinks that they hate him but in their sleep, Hollow does try to climb on top him him again like before, baring their scent glands right under his noses. This time, Hollow sleeps soundly without having nightmares interrupt their dreams, and he’s glad for it.

 

They do have a day off tomorrow, along with the troupe. Hollow shows him a newly opened bakery near the city square and they buy one with cherry frosting, bringing it to the Blue Lake, sitting together in peaceful silence. Grimm will try to break it by sharing his new stories and shenanigans Grimmkins went through during their absent, all the while resting his head on Hollow’s right shoulder where their right arm once has been. Hollow head sometime will nods in agreement to something he says, or slightly tilt their head to express their question. When the night comes, Grimm teleports them to Hallownest’s crown, sitting on the freshly grown patch of grass surround the Radiance statue to look at the starry sky above.

 

“So,” Grimm says, leaning closer, one hand taking their in his and points toward a spot in the sky where the stars gather in a certain pattern, almost looks like a W. “That is Cassiopeia.”

 

Hollow leans their head back, eyes easily follow Grimm’s movement as he points out to Pegasus then a bright star that is Aldebaran, searching for other constellations he can finds. His words fill in gaps in conversation and they soon find themself get lost in his gravelly voice but soothing nonetheless. Hollow softly takes their hand out of Grimm’s hold to search for his other on his laps, squeezes it. Their knees softly brush against others.

 

Faintly, they can feel Grimm squeezes back.

 

Bad nights become predictable as time goes by. Grimm has grown accustomed to they way Hollow sleep, their tossing and turning and sudden waking. Sometime Grimm wakes up, amid the chaos that are Hollow’s dreams and their bed. Sometime Grimm watches Hollow struggle, knowing when to leave them alone and lit up a candle or to come closer and run a hand down their trembling frame, doing his best to soothe them down. Sometime when he succeeds, he either hugs them to sleep again or get up and wandering around the tent, bringing up memories of time spending together, hallways filled with flickering torches and heavy shadows. Maybe he’ll have a hot drink before climbing back to bed and hoping that Hollow doesn’t remember anything tomorrow morning.

 

On rare occasions, Hollow will wakes up too, and Grimm will be able to hold them as he kisses away invisible tears only he can see, hands stroking their waking frame and tracing up to their side where they had unconsciously dig their claws into in their sleep. Grimm will release his own scene, woodsy and spicy with a tang of strawberry vine he had consumed before bed. Both of them will either stay up all night in silence after that, coated in their combine scents or when they feel like it, Hollow will puts a hand on his shoulder and leaning in, seeking warmth that only Grimm can offer and the Troupe Master in return will glide his hand down their back before cups Hollow waist, eagerly offer what he has as if being in a familiar dance.

 

Due to the nature of the troupe, Hollow can’t stay long with them unless they become a part of it, tie to the nightmare heart, and Grimm doesn’t want that fate upon them. Long ago, when they started this relationship, both of them had agree to spend some time apart, a small break that both of them need. It’s usually fine, until Hollow decides to pay a visit to White Lady, residents inside the depth of Queen’s garden, or bring with them a delicate flower and put it down on the broken gate of what remain of the White Palace and just sit down, the flower’s white petals gleaming against the dark.

 

Those days are usually the worst. Grimm can do nothing about the nightmare that will come when that happen. But on the morning when he wakes up, Grimm will finds a mountain of pillows in between them, Hollow’s hand reaching out under the pillows to grasp at his and it’s so cute he’s only a bit sad. To the troupe master, the sight of his partner curled up in a blanket, their hand reach out to him under their barrage of pillows, has become one of his most favorite things to wake up to.

 

At the end of their first year together, they spend it in the City of Tears, under the roof of their most favorite bakery near the city square, listening to the sound of water hitting glasses. One day, Hollow goes out, taking a stroll it seems, without their umbrella. The roads are empty at night, and they find comfort in the pouring rain and the gentle lights of lumaflies lanterns. Hollow then will stand before a memorial of themself, a memorial to the Hollow Knight, standing at the city and the kingdom heart, reading the words on the plaque for the hundreds time, since the day Hornet and Ghost bring them down after Radiance had gone.

 

MEMORIAL TO THE HOLLOW KNIGHT

_In the Black Vault far above_

_Through its sacrifice, Hallownest lasts eternal._

 

“...He does loves you, you know,” a voice speak up from their left, accompany with a large shadow of an umbrella above their heads. Hollow jolts, looks up and immediately recognizes the umbrella pattern, it is a gift from Ghost after all, before they tilt their head down.

 

Grimm is standing beside them, as silent and absolute as a shadow. A confronting presence.

 

Grimm speak again, softer and slower this time, making sure they hear everything single words: “He does loves you, you know.” Then Grimm looks up at the statue and put his hand on the plaque, the stone plate is a smooth and slippery surface beneath his claws, absentmindedly caress it as if recalling memories of days long past. A day where he also stood here, behind the Pale King under the pouring rain that will never stop, as the statue was putted in the middle of the fountain. The city that day was raining heavily, fat raindrops drenching them both as if in mourning.

 

Grimm doesn’t know why did he say that, or even saying anything at all. He does know, thought, the reason why he grabbed their umbrella and head out, immediately went to a place he know they definitely would be. Grimm thinks over his words, pondering.

 

He doesn’t mean to say it, nor does he mean to make it sounds like an apologize. Grimm does understand, though, that Hollow need to know about it, need to hear about it at least once in their live. It’s what they deserve at very least.

 

Rain still pouring down on them, create small and soft pitter patter sounds on the silver and black colored umbrella. Ghost must has one heck of a sense of humor, Grimm thinks amusingly.

 

Hollow doesn’t express anything, simple staring straight ahead, but he knows what thoughts are in their mind. Hoping they haven’t get lost in the phantom of the past, of the ethereal palace cover in light and her gleaming roots, of the king slender and pale guiding hands.

 

Takes the hand on the plaque off, Grimm then take a hand that has been hanging limply at their side and tighten his grip. The Troupe Master looks up, searching for any expression.

 

A moment later, Hollow’s opaque head turns to look at him and give him their best expression of a smile, leaning down to press their snout against his face. Chuckling, Grimm kisses them back.

**Author's Note:**

> [Humming along.](https://youtu.be/XtmCCNB8wqc)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> There will be more of this and there’s nothing I or anyone that that matter can do about it.
> 
> Yes, yes Quirrel is alive in this because I refuse to believe he dies after the Blue Lake. How and why, I’ll explain it later in future fic along with that one moment of Pale King and Grimm (spoiler, Hornet and Elder Bug contributed to his survival).
> 
> For now, let’s us enjoy this silly thing about this couple I wrote alright.


End file.
